Why?

I told myself to stop crying.
Everyday we watch the others dying.

Making it hard to survive when we live our life on a lie.

Saying justice is there, the black people start rising.

Calling the police but they’re the reason we’re dying.

To escape reality we seek the truth,

No more lies to cover up the proof.

Seeing with our own eyes that the blood is spilled,

We seek the justice and our minds are filled.

Filled with the fantasy and the determination

To make our lives more amazing with salvation.

And even though we thought we came so far,

They pushed us back behind bars.

Why?

Why you say?

Because nothing is more dangerous than a black man with a hoodie.

Raising your hands behind your head is a threat.

Walking down the street listening to A Boogie,

That now means that a target of suspect.

But let’s not forget that you’re still black.

So i write this poem to prove that,

Black is nothing but a color that we’re stuck with.

So either you understand that every day your life is a threat,
Or you fall to despair knowing that being black gets you shot at.